Chapter 3 - The Travel
1003 Words
Santi smiles lightly, approaching his father. "Well, what choices do I have?" She asks.
As a god of mischief and misdemeanor, Lucifer has been known to escape conversations. As such, he acted as if the previous argument in the garden did not occur.
"You can have this rare dead bug, or this greasy, greasy watch Beezlebub stole from some fellow up top. Or ooh, this colorful shiny bracelet Lilith played with, and well, useless Immortui betted with a tour to the riverside of the kingdom, but your choice. I know you like colors." He showed him all the pieces individually, eyes lighting up like fireworks, encouraging her to take a piece.
Santi hated dead animals, although those were mostly what she has seen in the entirety of her existence. She felt grossed out by the greasy object Beezlebub was trying to pass off as a watch. And while she adored the gem-filled bracelet Lilith had, she had never been to the riverside.
"I'll take the tour, daddy." She looks up at him, and he stares back in surprise.
She was daddy's girl for 300 years now. And for 300 years, she has learned to do as her father does, and escape the reality of things.
"Lots of surprises today, angel." He mutters. "Well, the tour it is!"
The room yells in unison, eager to start another game.
The Immortui motioned for Santi to get out of the room and lead the way towards the Riverside to begin the tour. Santi followed suit, neither of them spoke. Mainly because Immortuis speak incoherently or none at all.
"What do you think we'll find on the riverside?" Santi wonders, speaking to the Immortui, not expecting an answer. "I've never been to the riverside."
"The riverside contains the greatest terrors Hell holds."
Santi stood in her steps, shocked, but with her arms ready to take a fight. "You're not an Immortui."
"Good conclusion. Your father and those stupid demons back in there didn't seem to notice at all. I'm starting to think Hell's run by idiots." The faux Immortui spoke and turns around, meeting Santi in the eyes. "Oh wait, it is."
"Name yourself, you incessant beast," Santi spoke with such a serene and powerful tone, ready to set the ground on fire at any moment.
"I am not a brainless zombie."
In the blink of a human eye, the faux Immortui with ragged clothes and decaying flesh turned into a well-dressed human-looking creature bringing a suitcase. Yet he was but any regular businessman.
"I am Archangel Michael, the Angel of the Lord, the leader of the heavenly hosts." As soon as he exclaims those words with such conviction, white wings emerged from his back, glowing a holy glow.
"Oh, no s**t," was all Santi could utter. She stood flabbergasted at the sight of an actual angel. Of all the angels she could meet in 300 years, she meets the most important and strongest herald of the Lord.
"I know, it's intimidating." Archangel Michael flaps his wings and soars above, humbly bragging about the powers he holds. He dives back to the ground which shakes lightly as his feet touch the land. "But you know, don't judge the book by its cover. Or well, in my case, don't judge an angel by his wings."
"What the hell is this?" She could not wrap her head at this. An angel in Hell. An angel playing poker. With demons. Demons who did not have a dang clue there was a dang impostor among them.
Minds could not be wrapped, and jaws could not be anymore dropped.
"You have so much more to learn, kid. Your journey's only beginning."
"I-I, I-what?!"
"Honestly, I thought you'd be at least a little smarter than those idiots inside. It's not uncommon for angels or other celestial outsiders to enter Hell. It's not like they have security down here."
"But why?"
"I told you, you have a lot more to learn, still."
As Santi slowly ingests the fact that an angel stands in front of her, she feels anger rise to her throat. Her arms automatically jump to defense position, and with her eyes close, she focuses on one thing and one thing only.
My time for revenge has come. The Heralds of Heaven shall soon wither in my arms.
She opens her eyes to see the confused look on Angel Michael. As she sees this, she thinks of the very beginning of her misery. Her unfortunate soul, without a normal childhood, existing in a miserable dimension because of the angel's unmerciful judgement and prejudice on her. This was her damn revenge.
She throws a punch, hitting Michael's jaw. A punch so strong, powered with hate and vengeance, that Michael falls to the ground.
Michael grins, unhurt. For angels and celestial beings are known for their impossibility to feel physical pain and be killed.
"Easy there, tiger."
"Do you know how long I've stayed in this miserable, literal Hellhole?!"
"300 years, more or so, that's what I've heard."
Santi blows a kick to Michael's stomach, hard enough to push him meters away from her.
"You sentence a child, merely hours from being born, to Hell, with no regrets or remorse."
Still, Michael lies on the ground, patiently listening and waiting for her to finish her act.
"I don't know about that."
She walks towards his lying body, and steps on his leg. He doesn't even wince nor blink.
"You call yourselves angels, yet you've let an innocent child grow impure! Directly, your damn fault."
Michael loses his smile and jumps back on his feet. Santi's weight on his leg nor her efforts to hurt him were pathetic and useless.
"I cannot feel pain, child." He rustles his suit, brushing off the dust. "And I know so do you. A fight is useless. Follow me to the riverside."
Santi realizes this as well after Michael walked miles before her. Her anger minimally subsided, and she followed her as fast as her feet could take her.
- Writer
